


The Tax Collector

by cherrylng



Category: Coldplay (Band), Muse (Band)
Genre: A curious thief, Action, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Angst, Badass Tax Collector, Fluff, Gangs, Humor, M/M, Minor Character Death, Tea, The other characters will appear later, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 16:05:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4106875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrylng/pseuds/cherrylng
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>London, 1868. Dominic Howard is a tax collector for the City of Westminster. People rich and poor, good or bad, naturally dislike him, but what does he care? His job is to collect taxes. He does what he can. Stay alive. Fight the good fight. For Victory. For taxes. For England. For Queen and country. By God, <i>will he have your taxes.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by two things. The first is this video (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FXg95v8hWNE) at 10:45 because when Helloween quoted it, it was both badass and hilarious at the same time. 
> 
> The second was when The Handler was released, and the song combined with the quote gave birth to this. I recommend that you listen to The Handler if you want to have that feel of Dom being a badass.

They know him by sight. By the heavy shoulder coat that bore the coat of arms of the Queen and the City of Westminster, the knee high leather boots, the cane and the top hat. Any newcomer to the city that hears of whispers of his name will eventually meet him sooner or later.  
  
Walking down the lane and into the poorer parts of the city, several different reactions are thrown at him. Some sneer at him. Some spat at his feet. Some threw curses. Some silently respect him. The only common thing that they all do is to stay away from him, because they know better than to confront him. They only loathe him because of his job, they fear him for what he is capable of if they dare hit or run away from him.  
  
As he goes up the stairs and knocks the door firmly, they can only silently pray and hope for whoever opened that door either knew that the day would come upon them, and make sure to stand and smile and politely hand their money over to the man in the top hat and cane. If said person chooses to run or fight, well, they had it coming.  
  
Dominic Howard is the tax collector for the City of Westminster. You can never run or hide from him so long as your taxes are unpaid.

\-----

  
Dominic considers Thursday a good day.  
  
He has collected the taxes from three separate families in Paddington and Westbourne Green without any incidents whatsoever.  
  
The lower middle class Thatcher family have shown some markedly improvements as they no longer complain when he went to their door to collect their taxes. They are still wary at him, but they now know better than to hit a tax collector or racket up late fees as they did so the last time he visited them.  
  
The sun is high up at noon and Dominic sees it fit that he can go to a pub for some ale and a meal. Entering the building, the damp smell of sweat and smoke and alcohol permeates the air, but he walks in unfazed. He is here to give his stomach nourishment, not review the establishment.  
  
A hot meal of pie and jellied eels were quickly washed down by a mug of ale, and Dominic tosses some coins to the table before he stands up to take his coat and hat off the hook.  
  
A short man knocks against him and quickly gives him an apology before he leaves out of the pub. Dominic frowns at the man with brunet hair before picking his top hat and cane and following him out. He doesn’t need to check his belt or pockets to know that he was just pickpocketed.  
  
And that money is from a taxpayer.  
  
No one takes a taxpayer’s money from the tax collector without dire consequences.

\-----

  
“Bloody Nora,” the thief curses, quickly running into a narrow alley. He thought that the well-off man is easy to lose from the crowd, but apparently he is dead wrong with his assumptions. The blond had spotted him once he got out to the streets, and has pursued him without losing sight of him.  
  
Looking around, he spots a ladder leading up to the rooftops and quickly runs towards it. Once he reached to the rooftops, he knows that he has no time but to quickly take a sprint and leap towards the next building.  
  
The thief turns back to see whether if he has managed to shake the man off with a move like that, only to see in horror that the other man had done the same thing as he did and is gaining up speed.  
  
And he has a revolver gun taken out.  
  
For all that has happened so far, the thief has to give some credit to him, for that blond man in the top hat is a very determined person. And very terrifying to the thief.  
  
The thief runs and leaps through the rooftops, careful to pick his route to avoid taller buildings except as a last resort to pick for fear that the other would shoot him if he slows down from climbing. The brunet is not sure whether if he is excited or scared by such a game, or both.  
  
The brunet skids to a stop before the edge. The building across him is too far to reach by leaping, and the distance to the ground is far too high. With nowhere else to go, he turns around to see the man in the top hat walking towards him slowly, his hands gripping to his cane and twisting the top part out to reveal a hidden sword.  
  
Cock.  
  
Whatever the hell the man is or who he is, the thief is more than sure that he had messed with the bloody wrong man.  
  
“You’ve won, bloody leech,” the thief glares, holding his hands up in the air.  
  
“Hand over the pouch,” Dominic orders. Without hesitation, the thief tosses the pouch over to the blond. Satisfied that he finds the exact amount of money still within the pouch, Dominic puts his sword back and waves the other off. “Be gone, thief.”  
  
“Wait-- That’s  _it_?” the thief looks at the tax collector in disbelief. “Aren’t you going to drag me to gaol or somethin’?”  
  
“I’m a tax collector, not a policeman,” Dominic simply replies.  
  
“With that sword and gun you got there, you would’ve been from the army for all I care!”  
  
“And you shouldn’t care,” Dominic says nonchalantly, putting the pouch into the inner pocket of his coat, where it would be much safer there. He readies to leave when the thief talks again.  
  
“So you chased me up to the rooftops just because I took your money?” the thief asks, still in disbelief that this all happened just because of a small pouch of coins.  
  
“That  _pouch_ ,” the tax collector starts, “has the money of a tax paying citizen,” the blond glares. “I do not want to waste my time to write up missing money, or get berated by the Chancellor all because of a pickpocket made a family unable to pay for their income tax.”  
  
“I’m a thief!” the brunet exclaims, indignant and unhappy. “I’m not a simple pickpocket!”  
  
“One warning. First and last time for you,” Dominic says, tilting his top hat before shooting a glare at the brunet. “Do  _not_ cross a tax collector nor take a taxpayer’s money, thief.”  
  
“It’s Matthew!” the thief shouts as Dominic leaves the rooftops. Dominic says nothing back in return as he leaves to return to the ground. Once he is gone, Matthew looks down at where the tax collector is going off to, unable to leave his sight until he was too far away for his eyes to see.  
  
Matthew the thief is intrigued by this particular tax collector. Very, very intrigued.


	2. Chapter 2

Sunday is a day of rest. And for once there is a sunny day over London, and Dominic decides to pack his art supplies up and take a carriage to go west towards Kensington Gardens. With what he has to carry, he had no choice but to leave his cane at home. But it was no problem to him since the cane is all but an accessory and a way to carry a concealed weapon around.  
  
He soon finds a good spot to do some painting with a bench nearby. Just at the right distance from the Serpentine with enough greenery surrounding the river alongside with some families there. Dominic is busy with setting up the easel when he hears approaching footsteps.  
  
“A good day out today isn’t it, Mr Howard?” A voice calls out.  
  
“Good day to you sir,” Dominic replies coldly, deciding to continue with his work and putting the canvas up. It may be rude to ignore the person, but he knows who it is just by his voice, and no stranger can just call out his surname like that.  
  
"So what do you do when you're not being under the government's control and collecting taxes?" the thief smirks, seating himself on the bench right next to the blond’s art supplies.  
  
Dominic turns to stare at the brunet with blue eyes until he finally answers in a deadpan manner, "I paint your souls onto the canvas."  
  
Blue eyes stare at him in shock before a burst out a laughter came out as a response. Matthew laughs loudly, slapping his knee several times. “So Dominic Howard the tax collector  _does_  have a sense of humour!”  
  
"What do you want here, sir?" Dominic asks, keeping his best to keep his tone neutral.  
  
"To keep you accompanied out here today on this beautiful sunny day," he answers. "And I told you before that my name is Matthew. Matthew Bellamy."  
  
"I know not a person by that name under my jurisdiction, Mr Bellamy."  
  
"Well, you wouldn't. But I do know you," Matthew smirks, mischievous eyes watching and waiting for a reaction.  
  
Dominic chooses to keep quiet and pulls out a palette and several tubes of paint to start his work on painting The Serpentine River.  
  
Matthew coughs before he speaks. “If I may ask, Mr Howard, what would have happened if I have gotten away--”  
  
“You wouldn’t have,” Dominic answers immediately.  
  
The thief rolls his eyes and continues, “-- _successfully_  gotten away with the money?”  
  
“Then I must pay their taxes out of my account.”  
  
Matthew’s eyebrows quirked up in surprise. “Really? You would do that?”  
  
“Unless the money is stolen off of me, I rarely take up such actions,” Dominic says, tilting his head to check whether if the sun’s position has changed the lighting effects of the landscape.  
  
“An honest tax collector,” Matthew whistles, far too amused for his own good. “You might make a man out of a thief like me to steal the rich to help the poor!”  
  
Dominic grunts in reply, and ignores the brunet once he is focused on his work, outlining the blue skies before layering the bottom half in darker colours of green, brown and black. It is a tedious but steady progress that eventually, one could see the river appearing on the canvas.  
  
“So, how has your week been, Mr Howard?” Matthew asks casually to break the silence, leaning back to the bench with his hands on the back of his head.  
  
“Aside from a thief deciding to be confident to steal money from me, the usual,” Dominic answers, deciding whether or not to add people onto his canvas. “And judging by how you know my surname as Howard, I assume you have had a productive week.”  
  
“I certainly did,” Matthew brightens up. “Your family has an interesting history behind it. And it got my interest so much that I borrowed the keys to the city council’s archive to read up about it.”  
  
“Why find me here if you’ve already known my family name?” Dominic scoffs, mentally annoyed and alarmed that the thief has discovered who he is.  
  
“I might be wrong with what I’ve studied and heard of the rumours so far,” the thief grins, tilting his head. “If you don’t mind, I will explain of what I’ve read and heard, and you can correct me if one of those facts are incorrect.”  
  
Dominic chooses to stay quiet, which Matthew takes it as a cue to start talking the exploration of what he knows so far.  
  
“So let me see. Your father, Marquis Howard, served for the Duke of Wellington and participated in the Battle of Waterloo. Your oldest brother has participated in a campaign in Afghanistan,” Matthew elaborates.  
  
Dominic hums, painting on light blue to the canvas and listens on. So far that is not wrong.  
  
“Your second brother and a cousin for the war against the Sikh Empire, but unfortunately, your brother was killed in a battle. Sorry to mention that,” Matthew quickly adds when he sees Dominic’s brush abruptly stops stroking. “So why is one of the sons of the famed Howard family, who should be greeted as a Viscount or Lord, working as a lowly tax collector?”  
  
“I work for the city, and therefore by proxy, I still work for the Queen,” Dominic replies tersely, swirling the paint brush on the palette a little too hard.  
  
“The painting is coming into detail,” Matthew hums, staring at the still wet painting. “Seems rather blurry though. Following a certain new art style that is coming into popularity happening in France?”  
  
“Would you not talk to me while I paint, Mr Bellamy?” Dominic turns and glares at the thief, giving more than ample warning for Matthew to shut up accordingly.  
  
Dominic had been hoping that the long hours spent painting outside would eventually get the thief bored and leave him alone in peace. Yet from how Matthew had sat on the same spot right from the start, the brunet has shown that he has the patience for this. It is impressive, Dominic silently notes. If the blond were to turn around the easel and painted the bench instead, Matthew would not as much as twitch from his seat.  
  
Wouldn’t that be a blessing for Dominic to not have a talking and moving thief? Then again, if he were to do it, Matthew would either be very enthusiastic of being included into the canvas, or disappointed if Dominic paints nothing but the bench and his art supplies sitting on it.  
  
He stayed long enough to finish painting up to skies and parts of the river. Infuriatingly, so did Matthew. The only reprieve is that the thief did not follow him out of the park and onto the carriage after checking several times if Matthew had stalked him.  
  
When he checks the painting late at night, he notices that he had added too much blue than was necessary on the skies and can’t be bothered to change it. It looks different than the typical skies of London and brighter than even the sunlight this morning, but he likes it.  
  
\-----  
  
The second time Dominic encounters the thief while on duty is when Matthew passes by him in front of him one fine day in the streets in fine clothes and a top hat, whistling a happy tune and twirling a pouch on his fingers.  
  
It doesn’t take long for the tax collector to chase after and catch the thief once he’d confirmed from the elderly Mrs Goldstein that she’d already handed her money over to another tax collector just a few minutes before. The one with brunet hair and blue eyes.  
  
Once again, he lets Matthew go once he got the money back, although not without tackling the brunet down first to catch him.  
  
After the third time in which the brunet simply took the money right off of someone’s hand right as he is dropping the wallet onto Dominic’s hand, and with the use of his cane to cause the thief to trip and fall, it is no longer any coincidence or the likes of it.  
  
“You should not have seen a thief like me,” the brunet says, not annoyed because he was caught, but rather that he fell on a puddle and is now soaked to the skin.  
  
“Then you’re the worst thief that I’ve ever met,” Dominic responds in kind, putting the pouch into his coat.  
  
“Or you’re a really good thief catcher,” Matthew quips, clearly sounding far too cheerful for being caught.  
  
“Catching thieves is not in my job. It is the police that should be doing this,” Dominic mutters to himself, which to his misfortune, Matthew has heard it too.  
  
“Those blue lobsters are absolutely shit at their jobs,” Matthew purrs. “You, on the other hand, should’ve been a commissioner for the Scotland Yard.”  
  
Dominic rolls his eyes, takes the money and pulls the thief up to his feet. “I insist that you cease disturbing me while I am on duty here, Mr Bellamy.”  
  
“Does that mean that you allow me to see you when you are off duty then?” Matthew cheekily asks, his blue eyes sparkling.  
  
"Don't ever bother me, Mr Bellamy," with that said, Dominic once again walks away and leaves the thief alone to his own thoughts.  
  
“Really tough to talk to him,” Matthew says to himself, sighing and knowing that he has to find other methods to get more attention from Dominic.  
  
\-----  
  
With careful hands, Matthew silently slides the window shut and smiles to himself at the feat of his accomplishment as usual. Tonight is a good haul. A jewellery shop and the flat above it where the owner of the shop and his wife resides in.  
  
He estimates that he had taken a few hundred pounds worth of money and jewellery in the shop, but didn’t take any more that would financially ruin the man. He may be a thief, but he is not that cruel to ruin someone’s life. Plus, there was only so much that could fit into his bag before it becomes too heavy and bothersome to carry over his shoulder.  
  
One of his favourite item is a golden mask that isn’t even made from gold at all.  
  
The mask displayed on the front store is a fake, made from another type of metal and decorated with coloured glass instead of gemstones that is hard to tell apart unless one has good eye on closer inspections. It wouldn’t be worth much pawning it off, but the intricate details and effort to make such a fake look identical to the real one was too pretty for Matthew to sell it off.  
  
He’ll keep it in his collections instead, alongside with the real one that he’d found in a safe in the basement workshop.  
  
Right as he is about to climb up to the rooftops to take his leave, Matthew stops when he hears something and freezes in place.  
  
There is a scuffle from below. Normally they don't know that he is there hidden by the darkness, so Matthew tends to leave as soon as possible to avoid detection. But something, or someone, of course caught his attention. He looks down and observes, curious to see what is going on. There are a group of men trapping a man in the alley, which Matthew suspects that the man had just left from a nearby pub.  
  
He then spots the long coat, the cane and the top hat, and realises that the three men were not just ganging up on some unfortunate guy. They are ganging up on Dominic.  
  
Matthew curses to himself. He wishes that he can help Dominic, but the only feasible weapon that he has is a small crowbar, and his fighting skills are a joke. All he can do is watch from above, hiding in the shadows. If worse comes to worst, Matthew will intervene in whatever way that he can and help Dominic escape from there.  
  
Dominic seems to be telling them to back off from him, but the men just laughed, and pulled their weapons out. Two of them are holding out knives, and the one that Matthew presumes is the leader of the group holds up a gun.  
  
Instead of drawing his sword out of the cane, Dominic uses the cane itself to strike at the leader with the gun, hitting his hand and forcing the man to drop his gun and yell in pain. This caused the two men with knives to strike at him in a pincer attack. The tax collector is too fast for them, however, easily dodging and swerving away from their slashes.  
  
He strikes them down to the ground, each strike with his cane hitting their heads hard, the fluidity of his movements and skills made the fight looked easy for him to win in a fight against three men.  
  
When all the men are down on the ground and groaning in pain, Dominic stands tall and proud, with not a scratch on him. Matthew is impressed by how Dominic dealt with these scums, what made him even more impressive is how he took their weapons away from these dangerous men and left the alley right after.  
  
Watching from above, Matthew’s jaw is agape. If Matthew was intrigued before, he is swooned now. Swooned by this tax collector and his ridiculous swordsmanship skills and ridiculously stone cold handsome face.  
  
It is ridiculous that someone like Dominic exists to be working for a job as a tax collector.


	3. Chapter 3

Dominic sighs inwardly, standing awkwardly in a glittering soiree party in Marylebone while wearing clothes that he never usually wears for his work. It looks formal enough to pass off in this event, but it still feels as though he should’ve gone back to his wardrobe to change for something much better to blend in with the rest of the gentry.  
  
He was meant to be at work, not at a party where there are young women that have just come to age and celebrating the Season. Coming from the countryside to the capital city of London to celebrate their coming of age and seeking potential suitors, they are more likely to be happy to have finally met other girls their age to share their sentiments of the prospect of months of grandeur and fun that the countryside would lack, sometimes even frowned upon.  
  
But then his mother gave him an invitation and a message that his sister had wanted to see him so badly. It was hard to say ‘no’ to his mother, much less so to his sister.  
  
He scoffs when one of the young ladies turned towards him with a look of interest and chatter among her group. His sister is the same age as them, and besides, he wasn’t interested in women at his sister’s age. For that would be wrong, and it _feels_  wrong to be flirted by them.  
  
Not wanting any more attention from them, Dominic leaves his space and goes towards the table where food is served. There, he spots an old friend of his and decides to get his attention with a hand on the taller man’s shoulder.  
  
“Good afternoon, Commissioner Wolstenholme,” Dominic greets. The taller man turns around to give the blond an exasperated look.  
  
“Dominic, please. We’ve known each other for years already, why can’t you call me by my first name?” the commissioner rolls his eyes, but clinks their flutes together.  
  
“The whole title fits better with your surname after that promotion, Christopher,” Dominic smirks, downing the champagne whole.  
  
“You know that’s what they call back at the office,” Christopher sighs, popping a small pastry into his mouth. “But... it’s rather nice to have time out for once and come here than staying in the office. After all, the Season provides so much for us people in the city to have entertainment too.”  
  
“Wouldn’t your wife be upset by that?”  
  
Christopher waves his hand in dismissal. “Kelly is fine with it. Besides, she’s here to let her hair out and enjoy the party. Needs it after having the kids almost driving her up the wall.”  
  
“That she certainly deserves,” Dominic notes, spotting Kelly chattering happily with the other women.  
  
As he drinks his champagne, something seems to bother Dominic. He could’ve sworn that someone was watching him throughout the whole time he is at the party. He is aware of the looks women and several men have given to him. Yet he can sense that one person who is staring at him from somewhere in the ballroom.  
  
Then Christopher puts a hand on his shoulder.  
  
“Is something bothering you lately? You know you can rely on me to help you anytime, Dominic,” Christopher says. Even when he appears to be enjoying the event, Dominic has known that his friend is a very perceptive person.  
  
Dominic sighs, knowing that it’s almost impossible to lie to someone like the commissioner. “Do you know of this thief with brunette hair, blue eyes and a pronounced double chin?”  
  
“Oh, you mean Matthew Bellamy?” Grey eyes turn towards to the taller man, giving no indication of a surprised reaction aside from a sudden loosened grip on the flute.  
  
“So you do know him,” Dominic says in dull surprise.  
  
“Yeah, he’s a bugger up everyone’s arse in the station, but from reading the reports he’s not a bad man. Never killed or hurt anyone,” Christopher laughs. “The only problem that we have is capturing him, and keeping him locked in a cell longer than a week. He certainly earns his reputation as a notorious master thief.”  
  
Dominic scoffs at the last sentence, to which the taller man looks at him in confusion.  
  
“What is the matter? Did you encounter him while doing your rounds?” Christopher asks, replacing his empty glass for a filled one when a waiter passed by.  
  
“Yes, once. Then several times since then.”  
  
Christopher makes a noise, something of a mix of curiosity and amusement. “You got his attention, then.”  
  
“I don’t know why he is interested in getting my attention, but it annoys me that he disrupts my job,” Dominic huffs, picking up a dainty pastry and consuming it whole. Tart, but sweet and filling.  
  
“Well, last time that I recall, no one has ever taken a job such as collecting taxes and turned it into something that you do,” Christopher points out. They share a knowing look and smile, saying nothing further than that.  
  
“I should go and greet my sister now. After all, it’s been awhile since I last met her.”  
  
The commissioner nods. “Good day then, Dominic.”  
  
“And to you, Christopher.”  
  
He walks around the halls, hoping that he can find his sister, who is accompanied here by their mother. Less than a few feet away, a young lady with blonde hair a shade lighter than Dominic’s looks up and easily spots him. Aside from pulling her long skirt up, she all but runs towards him and jumps him in excitement.  
  
“Dom, you’re actually here!” she squeals, wrapping her arms around his chest.  
  
“Couldn’t miss my little sister finally coming to age,” Dominic chuckles as he accepts her hug.  
  
“You should come back once in awhile, Dom. The estate is not the same without you there. You can even come to the townhouse that we’re staying in!”  
  
“I would love to, but I can’t. You know why, Lilian,” Dominic smiles sadly.  
  
“Still, you’re here, and that’s what matters to me!” she smiles. “Let’s not think of the past for today. It’s time to have fun and see what handsome man can sweep me off my feet.”  
  
“Sure, my little Lilian,” Dominic chuckles. He takes a look around before he turns back to her. “Now. Don’t look at him. Don’t approach that man. And don’t let  _that_  man approach you,” Dominic instructs, pointing at different men mingling with the crowd.  
  
“Dom, I don’t need your help in finding a suitor,” she rolls her eyes, punching his arm for good measure.  
  
“Trust me, Lilian. I think that even their own siblings or lawyers have left tears on checking their ledgers,” Dominic scoffs. “And I know because I have to keep track of their payments that goes to the Treasury.”  
  
“It’s probably completely different now!”  
  
“Do you actually believe what you said?” Dominic asks, sending a look of doubt at her.  
  
Lilian rolls her eyes. “Fine, I won’t let them approach me.”  
  
“You know that my advice is worth listening to,” Dominic chides. He gives her a melancholic smile. “It’s so good to see you again, all grown up and no longer a child.”  
  
“Aren’t you going to stay a bit longer, Dom?” Lilian asks, not liking that her brother has to depart.  
  
“I’m sorry, but I do need to take my leave now. Paperwork is not going to be done by itself.” That is the only part that he never liked of his job, but it is the only one that he can do after leaving the party for the day.  
  
She watches him walk away from her after a hug, disappointed that their meeting in London is brief, even if it warms her to meet him again in such a long time.  
  
\-----  
  
Playing a game of tossing pebbles into a tin can is and can be fun, but eventually it gets boring when there are no other children around to play with, and you’re waiting for someone at where you are. The only fortunate thing for Claire right now is that at least it’s not raining as she waits.  
  
From behind, she can hear footsteps approaching towards her. It was almost silent, but her ears cannot fool her. She turns her head around while keeping a grip on a small knife that she keeps hidden in her dress. She only loosens it once her eyes confirmed that the man wouldn’t harm her.  
  
After all, she can’t exactly harm a good business partner of hers.  
  
“You’re late, mister,” she says, glaring at him.  
  
“I apologise, my dear lady,” Matthew bows down to her in grace. To the twelve year old, it might as well appear mocking in fashion.  
  
“What kept you so late for your appointment with me?” Claire asks, crossing her arms and looking at him with disdain at his awful punctuality.  
  
“I was attending a Season party. It was magnificent both in display and from what I’ve got from it, I made good profit and had fun mingling amongst the nobles,” Matthew grins. “Again, I am sorry for being late.”  
  
“Better late than never coming. Well, I got what you want right here,” she says, pulling out a small piece of paper out of her dress pocket. “Now give me the money, mister thief.”  
  
“Whoa there, Claire,” Matthew holds his hand up, keeping the money on his other hand in a tight hold. “This is part of what you have to learn in the bargain that we agreed to, Claire. You remember that I told you before that you give me that piece of paper first, and then I’ll give you your money.”  
  
“Fine,” Claire rolls her eyes, ignoring how Matthew is treating as some ignorant child and handing the paper over to him first. As promised, the thief holds out a small pouch filled with enough money to feed her family for a week.  
  
“Hey mister thief, what are you going to do with what I’ve given to you? Gonna go in and steal their stuff?” she asks, morbidly curious. She isn’t a fool to see what profession that Matthew works as. The information that she’d just given over is in a well off part of the city, even if the house that the thief is going to has been warned to her by other children is not a man to be trifled with.  
  
“What I am going to do with this, is not part of the bargain, Claire,” Matthew chuckles, patting her head. “You shouldn’t meddle with my business, as I don’t meddle with yours.”  
  
She huffs, but gives up on trying and leaves the alley to finally go home.  
  
Matthew keeps watch as she disappears at the turn of a corner before he shakes his head. A child in a working class family that can read and write is a rare type of child to find. But when one does find it, they are very valuable in having spies out of them. Claire is special at her age, for she has a head in business of profiting out of this.  
  
Matthew grins as he reads and memorizes the information into his head, sure that he will get what he wants once he is there.  
  
\-----  
  
Dominic wakes up gradually, looking around the dark room and wondering what has roused him from his sleep.  
  
He then hears the bell ringing, the cause that woke him up at this ungodly hour of the night. The bell ringing would not be caused by the maid, but by an intruder. A thief in his house.  
  
Now he feels much more awake. He quickly puts his night gown on, takes his cane sword and pistol along, worried if the intruder is armed. He checks the bells to see where the intruder is in, and finds them to be... In the studio?  
  
He kicks the door open to find of all people, the goddamn thief with his brunet hair and blue eyes looking intently at a painting of his. Specifically, the very same one when Matthew was in the gardens with him.  
  
“You finished the painting.”  
  
What in the name of God.  
  
"The sky on the painting is brighter than it looks when you painted it in the gardens," Matthew notes, seemingly unperturbed that he’d just broke into the tax collector’s house. "But it certainly reminds me of the blue skies that the countryside has that London hardly gets."  
  
"Mister Bellamy, what are you doing in my house?" Dominic asks, holding the gun up and pointing it at Matthew. He's furious for two solid reasons. One, is that the thief had somehow found out where he lives and decides to come here. The second is that he now needs to spend money on increasing security of his home if the thief had managed to enter it.  
  
"Oh, I’m sorry. I didn't break into your home to steal your valuables,” the thief finally turns to face him, unsurprised at the weapon trained onto him. Rather, he scoffs at the sight at it instead. “Oh, come off it. I just wanted to see the painting again. It’s been weeks since I’ve last seen it at the park with you."  
  
"Get out,” Dominic says in a threatening tone, his eyes glaring and his teeth gritting. His finger is itching to touch the trigger handle. Maybe either fire a warning shot or put the annoying bastard out of his life.   
  
"By the front door or the window that I just came in from?" Matthew looks at him incredulously, tilting his head slightly to the right and not appear afraid of the gun still pointed at him.  
  
"Get. Out."  
  
"Leaving through the window it is."


	4. Chapter 4

To most people who have met Dominic Howard, tax collector extraordinaire, he is what the sense of dread and revile feels like. In the story and history of King John before the Magna Carta, the barons did not like the taxes that he hands out, but from the barons to the peasants, they hated the sheriffs and the tax collectors, the ones who come and take their money away.  
   
But such a statement is not entirely correct. Most of such people who compare Dominic to some reviled, evil tax collector are those who never understood how a government cannot manage without money in its coffers and keep a country functioning. And late for their payments and cannot escape their meeting with the man in his top hat, long coat and cane.  
   
As another matter of fact, most days, Dominic’s working hours as a tax collector is surprisingly peaceful. In the office, he does paperwork. On the field, he dons his infamous clothes. His attire and the insignia is more than enough to inform the citizens that he visits upon that they were late in their payment, and he is courteous and polite to them as they hand over the payment without much fuss about it.  
   
It’s only  _some_  days when there are some people who think that they have found ways to avoid going to the office or escaped from them to not pay until they come back, that Dominic must respond in kind.  
   
Fortunately for the Treasury and unfortunately for dodging taxpayers, having Dominic Howard as a tax collector helps alleviate such discrepancies. Those are the days when he becomes the one that tax dodgers fear.  
   
Today is the day that he meets one such person. Instead of meeting him from his home, it is at his working place where he owns a factory. The factory owner was surprised and nervous, but nonetheless allowed Dominic to follow him to his office.  
   
Silently, Dominic pay attention to his surroundings of the factory while the man blabbered on and trying to give him as much courtesy as he could pull out from his back end. The blond had not missed on spotting out children hiding behind the large machines, some even taking a peek at him.  
   
“I hope that you don’t find my late payment unacceptable. I’ve been very busy what with demands coming in here!”  
   
Dominic gives him a polite smile. “No, not at all.”  
   
Once their business is done, Dominic leaves the factory with the money. He can’t do anything about the blatant abuse the factory owner and his wardens are doing to the children that he’d witnessed since he is but a tax collector who has done as his job intended.  
   
It doesn’t mean that he can’t inform this little titbit to the police. He is sure that Commissioner Wolstenholme would take up the warrant with a mix of glee and fury at what the manufacturing company had employed. Especially as unlike most of his peers, Christopher has a fierce love for children and not even the Devil can stop him if a child is treated badly.  
   
But, that is another time for it to happen. Today is simply another day at work for Dominic James Howard.  
   
\-----  
   
There’s something humourous about individuals who will go through lengths to avoid paying their taxes. There are only two things that are permanent in life, and that is death and taxes. This particular one that Dominic is chasing after is very, very dumb.  
   
He can complain all he wants about how little he was paid working in a store in Brompton, but Dominic knows that part of his salary which could’ve got him to pay for his taxes and not made him run away from him ends up in the hands of a harlot near the docks.  
   
At least that harlot knew when to pay her taxes on time, unlike some of her clients.  
   
He runs and turns to the corner, knowing by heart and memory of the city’s outlines that there is a dead end there and he can negotiate with the man there. That plan didn’t come to fruition when he stumbles upon the man collapsed down to the ground, groaning in pain and holding his nose while a certain thief with brunette hair is busy rifling through his pockets.  
   
Matthew pulls out a small grey pouch with a triumph sound and smile to match.  
   
“He has a few crowns and shillings, Mr Howard,” Matthew holds a small pouch up, shaking it to make the coins jingle. “It’s not much, but certainly enough until he pays for the rest come the next payday.” He tosses the pouch to the tax collector.  
   
“What are you doing, Matthew?” Dominic raises his eyebrow, catching the pouch in reflex. He’d wanted to yell at Matthew for what he’d done, but that got stuck in his throat.  
   
“I helped you catch a running taxpayer,” Matthew says in a cheerful tone.  
   
Dominic shoots him a look. In the time that he’d known the thief, he had never been helped by him before. He’d expected Matthew to steal from the man that he’d knocked down, true, but then to hand the money over to him?  
   
“Now go on, you better make sure that you bring that back to the council on time. ‘Else someone would nick it off of you,” Matthews ‘shoos’ Dominic off. When the tax collector looks at him in doubt, he rolls his eyes. “We’ll be fine, Dominic.”  
   
Dominic has a grim look on his face that is still tinged in confusion, but he tilts his hat and greets them a “Good day” with a smile for Matthew before leaving the alley behind.  
   
“What didya do that for?!” the man exclaims once he is gone, trying to stop his nosebleed.  
   
“I steal for the thrill of it. But I do it to pay my rent and taxes too,” Matthew shrugs, walking out of the alley. He shoots a glare as a warning. “You should remember not to cross the tax collector of Westminster. Or shove a thief down.”  
   
Anyone but the thief would have thought that today is a weird day. Not to Matthew, not when his heart is beating so hard and his head feels light because he saw Dominic  _smiled_  at him.  
   
\-----  
   
“Don’t even touch my top hat, Mr Bellamy,” is how Dominic greets the thief during his lunch break in a coffeehouse.  
   
“How did you know it was me, Mr Howard?” Matthew asks, plopping himself down right across the other man. The thief had sworn that he has been very quiet and stealthy to surprise the tax collector from behind. Not that he would’ve done it too well, or else he might get a cane to his head.  
   
“I know your tricks by now. You no longer surprise me.”  
   
“But I still did,” Matthew smirks. “I came in right around the time that you need to drink coffee, which means that you can’t kick me out of this nice institution that has provided you that black nectar.”  
   
Dominic stares at the brunette for a while before he rolls his eyes and sighs. Mentally, he begrudgingly admits that he is surprised that Matthew is knowing him more and more over time. Every time he tries to shake the thief off of him, Matthew seemingly returns back each time with a vengeance.  
   
He takes a look at Matthew, who is staring back at him with a lopsided grin and this eerie feeling that Dominic has known before, but never expected it to be given to him by the thief.  
   
“What exactly do you expect for flirting with me, Mr Bellamy?” Dominic asks.  
   
“Me? Flirting with  _you_? Don’t be preposterous!” Matthew laughs a little too loud and forcefully.  
   
“You flirt as though you are a young lady that has just made her debut for the Season and spotted a potential suitor to fall for. And think as though you will succeed in wooing me into marriage with you.”  
   
“Is there something wrong with my attempts to woo you, Viscount Stockport?” Matthew purrs, resting his chin on his fingers. As much as he fell for that smile the tax collector had given to him that one time, he just as much loves to push Dominic’s buttons to see what makes him tick.  
   
"You are a man, Matthew," Dominic pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. "And I insist that you stop calling me a Viscount."  
   
"But you are one," Matthew insists with a smirk on his face. "And opinions around these times are getting ever more progressive for same sex unions, even the Church of England gave such a union its blessings. Your conservative views on such a subject is abhorrent, my dear Viscount."  
   
Suddenly, Dominic stands up and slams his hands down on the table loudly, to the shock of Matthew and others nearby.  
   
"I am  _not_  a Viscount, Matthew," he growls in sheer anger that the thief actually pulls away from the table out of fear on what he’d done. “If you don't stop this nonsense, I will take matters into my own hands and make you regret every one your actions and for ever meeting me."  
   
He leaves Matthew frozen in his seat as he tosses a few coins to the table and leaves the coffeehouse in fury. The thief didn’t follow him from behind, didn’t even dare move from his seat.  
   
\-----  
   
Another break in. The drawing room this time.  
   
Pulling his robes on, it takes some time for Dominic’s sleep addled mind to think before deciding to take his sword cane along with him.  
   
Hearing some noises behind one of the doors, Dominic readies his cane and opens the door wide with a burst. He finds Matthew in the drawing room, a fire already stoked up and warming the room.  
   
“Dominic!” Matthew cheerfully greets the tax collector, standing up with his arms apart as if awaiting a hug from the other man. Dominic chooses to stare at him rather than to give him one. The memory of what happened at the coffeehouse the other day is still fresh in Dominic’s mind, and probably Matthew’s too.  
   
He sighs.  
   
“I’m tired, I need tea, and I can’t be bothered with your cheeriness right now. So sit down,” Dominic says dryly, sitting down on the armchair while Matthew obeyed and took the other seat. “Just explain right away of why you’re here.”  
   
Matthew is twitchy and skittish before he finally says, “My flat burned down.”  
   
Dominic sits upright, suddenly much more alert. “Pardon?”  
   
“There was a fire at the house that I was living in. Could only save a few items before I got out,” Matthew says quietly. “And I know no one that I trust and got nowhere else to go to but here.”  
   
For once, Dominic has no idea how to respond back to Matthew. Now that he takes a better look at Matthew, he can see some soot clinging to his clothes and skin, smoke also stuck to him in a strong acrid way that he can smell even from where he is sitting.  
   
Often he has snide, cold, or sarcastic remarks for him, but for something like this... He honestly has no idea how to react other than a dumb "Oh".  
   
“I can leave if you want to," Matthew quickly says and stands up. He gives out a nervous laugh as he says, "I don't know why after the fire that I chose to come here after the animosity that I’ve caused. I’m sorry for disturbing you. And breaking into your house. I will take my leave now.”  
   
"Matthew, wait," Dominic holds his hand up to stop the thief from leaving. "Just... sit down for a bit."  
   
Matthew is often cheeky and prides himself for being a master thief. To see him sullen and pathetic is rather… odd for the blond. Pitiful. His stomach felt heavy just from the sight of how completely different the thief is.  
   
Dominic sighs, and rings the bell to call in the maid once Matthew keeps still on his seat.  
   
Upon her arrival, he gives her an order, “Miss Huddleston, I know that it’s late, but could you bring us tea and prepare the guest room for Mister Bellamy here?”  
   
Dominic is not sure whether he should regret this decision or not yet, but the surprise and hopeful look on Matthew is more than enough to tell him that such regret on his decision is irrelevant.  
   
After all, the Howard family has never failed when it comes to providing hospitality, no matter rich or poor.  
   
\-----  
   
The next morning is a dreary grey day, with rain pouring over the city. Luckily, the newspapers arrived in time and dry, so Miss Huddleston does not need to iron the papers.  
   
Dominic checks the newspapers provided to him alongside breakfast. True to Matthew’s words, there was indeed a fire last night in Southwark that razed down three houses and had some casualties and lost personal properties. The cause of it was claimed to be a gas lantern dropped on hay left outside.  
   
When Matthew came to the dining room a while later, the blond greets him, silently giving consent to the brunette to have breakfast with him.  
   
“I expect that you will go and find a new place to settle,” Dominic says as an offhanded remark. “Your stay here is only temporary. As long as you behave in my household, I won’t make your stay any shorter.”  
   
Matthew is too busy stuffing down on his jam slathered muffin to reply.  
   
\-----  
   
In the first week of his stay, when Dominic had noticed that Matthew has a lack of clothing to change from what few that he managed to save from his flat, he gave Miss Huddleston money to go and buy new clothes for the brunette before he left for work.  
   
A few days after the new clothes were brought and given to Matthew, Dominic finds a pouch of money on his desk. At breakfast, Matthew didn’t look at him as he ate, wearing a shirt and a pair of trousers that look fresh and new.  
   
\-----  
   
Although Matthew promises to leave once he found a new flat to live in, it took an awful long time to find a new place that what the thief claims must be just right for him.  
   
One week became two, and then a month. By the end of the second month, Matthew has become a fixture in his house just as much as he is the thing that would not leave his house, nor Dominic’s life.  
   
The reasons why Dominic hasn’t kicked him out of his house yet are a lot to account. Matthew never disturbs him while he works or comes back dead tired after an exhaustive day of work. So the very least is that Matthew is keeping to his promise, and Dominic appreciates a person who keeps to their promise with him.  
   
He still doesn’t know whether if it is a good idea to house a notorious thief in his home or not. Miss Huddleston has not reported on anything in the household missing yet, neither did she report this to the police yet, and she is not one to be trifled with for her eyes are as sharp as an eagle.  
   
One day when Miss Huddleston came into his office while he was busy writing a letter to his mother and asked him on where to put Mr Bellamy’s clothes that she’d just washed and dried to, Dominic tells her to put it back into the wardrobe in Matthew’s bedroom.  
   
He stops writing when he realised that not only Miss Huddleston now washes Matthew’s clothes, but that he’d just replaced the ‘guest room’ into ‘Matthew’s bedroom’.  
   
\-----  
   
Matthew is restless.  
   
He had sworn to Dominic that he won’t misbehave as he is staying with him. In hindsight, if he were staying for a few days at best, this wouldn’t be problematic. After the second month had passed since staying with the blond, however, it’s not hard to concede for Matthew that he did not exactly think nor follow his plan through.  
   
The problems are various to list. For one, Dominic offered his home for him to stay until he can get his feet up and running, and he hasn’t said a word or hinted to Matthew that his stay is becoming an unwelcome one. He is courteous and patient enough to see to that happening at some point.  
   
He even bought a new set of clothes for him rather than just give him any old clothes that the tax collector owns. Matthew used that one time to quickly gather enough money to repay him in gratitude. After that, although he has spent some time outside at night, he didn’t exactly return with his pockets filled with money and jewellery.  
   
Second of all, is that goddamn security system that was set up in around the house. While not dangerous or lethal to a master thief such as Matthew, it doesn’t avoid the fact that it still alerts the owner to what is happening around the house while in bed, and a maid like Miss Huddleston doing some patrol rounds that Matthew has found to be unpredictable in its time seeing as she is a light sleeper.  
   
Third, is that since he lost most of his possessions and money from the fire, it will take a while to gain and save up enough money to search for a new abode.  
   
He cursed up a string of words that could make a sailor blush to himself. He isn’t a man with morals, or some gentleman thief. He is a pragmatic man that has made a living by stealing, earning his notoriety as a master thief over the years with his skills! So why is he so worked up over something that can be easily dealt with earlier?  
   
Then he remembers Dominic’s  _smile_  and Dominic’s  _anger_  that Matthew experienced.  
   
Matthew inwardly groans. All of his dilemma seems to lie on those two emotions that he had seen from Dominic. It is understandable that he is fearful of the anger that Dominic had shown to him, for that made him understand why having a Howard as your enemy is a terrible choice.  
   
But had Matthew not seen the smile and the kindness that Dominic possesses, he would not have been here, acting like a dog starving for the attention of its master and trying to please them. A part of him somehow can’t help it. He wanted to see Dominic’s smile to be given to him once more.  
   
So he can’t exactly do his living as a thief.  
   
Yet, at the same time, it doesn’t mean that his skills cannot be applied elsewhere. There’s no curfew for him whenever he leaves the house, and he’d been told not to misbehave  _inside_  his house, not out of it. If Dominic asks… Well, he can explain that he is searching for a proper job so long as he keeps anything that he took from the outside well hidden.  
   
With a smirk on Matthew’s lips, now knowing that all is not doom for him, he follows Miss Huddleston down after she has announced that supper is ready and Dominic is there waiting for him.  
  
All he needs to do is to find a few contacts that can lead him to meeting up with… an old friend of his.


	5. Chapter 5

Matthew leans against a column as he waits for a certain train to arrive at Victoria Station and quickly hop onto it to meet someone waiting for him. He isn’t taking a train to leave London behind. No, he’s waiting for a certain train that comes and goes, but never picks up any passengers aside from cargo and certain men and women allowed onto it.  
  
He isn’t coming to this man because he is desperate. He is coming to this man because he is… an old friend and Matthew’s appearance often meant that only the best jobs are offered up to him by his… friend.  
  
A rough looking man wearing a cap who is standing on the entrance to a compartment nods at Matthew in acknowledgement, and he sidesteps away to allow the thief into the compartment.  
  
“Matty boy! It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you around!” a tall jovial man greets him with a bear hug.  
  
“Nice to see you again, Martin,” Matthew manages to squeak out a greeting in return.  
  
Christopher Martin. A shady yet affable man, well-connected in the underworld, and seemingly knows everyone and everything that comes and goes in London, possibly all over the British Isles and beyond.  
  
A certain someone that Matthew would never call a friend, but the taller man foolishly trusts him enough to regard him as one. He gives good jobs to him that not only fits his skill sets, but also has good money for them both. Matthew gets the bigger share since he does most of the hard work.  
  
This is not to say that Chris has not done his fair share of stealing before. Although his brags sound outrageous and hard to believe until a few pints have been drunk, there _is_ a stretch of truth to it.  
  
For instance, Chris once claimed that he has successfully stolen a train a few years ago. Few people believed it, and Matthew is one of those very few who does believe it. The only reason why Matthew believes it is because he cooperated with Chris to help the man in obtaining the locomotive.  
  
However, the truth behind it is a lot bigger, for in order to steal the train, they had to ‘steal’ the private company who owns and uses that train to transport items in and out of London. In order to steal the company, they had to find out its owner, Edward Bryant, who they found out was not exactly a good man or good company to be with. His competitors wouldn’t miss him if he were gone, neither does Chris Martin, who wants his train.  
  
Before they knew it, the simple plan of stealing a train became a gambit. In order to steal the locomotive, they had to eliminate his right hand men, dig out the dirt on Bryant, affect his business badly to lure him out, get him end up accused on a crime that is enough to ship him off to Australia after a short trial, and finally buy his company off before other competitors realised what happened to poor Edward Bryant.  
  
It took weeks of preparation, spying, and timing to execute a job as large as Chris’ ambitions. It was a gambit that can break and fail, or succeed beyond even Matthew’s expectations on a plan as audacious as it already is. Luckily they gained the latter, and Chris is now the proud owner of a train that he wanted and a business company that came with the train, for Bryant & Co became Martin & Co.  
  
Last that Matthew heard from Chris, the business company that he had ‘stolen’ has become successful and profitable, and he is also planning to purchase another train rather than steal it the second time around.  
  
The man loves the train enough that it was well worth the pileup gambit to gain it.  
  
It is on Chris’ train that is now his current headquarters that circles around London rather than the previous one that was a dingy terraced house in Southwark that Matthew meets his old… friend. The mobile headquarters is a far cry from Chris’ previous immobile headquarters. Gilded in gold and smooth wood from the Amazon, here is where Chris is the lord.  
  
Even Chris appears dapper with his business suit that makes him look like any gentleman of fortune in the British Empire. Underneath the legal appearance, it doesn’t fool Matthew, knowing from word around that Chris is still the top dog of the underworld. His nickname of ‘Clean Face’ Martin is not gained from nothing.  
  
“Got any jobs to offer for me to stave off from boredom and get me money?” Matthew asks, sitting down on a loveseat.  
  
“Well, as a matter of fact, Matty, there are. Here are a few that I’ve written down,” Chris puts down some selected papers on the desk. “Only left the best of the best just for you, as you know.”  
  
Matthew takes a look at the five papers on the table, examining them for what is requested and what the rewards are. To the surprise of Chris, the thief didn’t pick any one of the best jobs that was offered and instead went for the board with various miscellaneous jobs that were usually picked up by the rookies within Chris’ gang. Then again, it’s not a job for one man to do it.  
  
“This will do,” Matthew picks out one off the board and hands it over to Chris. The taller perks up an eyebrow as he reads it.  
  
“Free up some children from a factory?” Chris says. It’s an altruistic mission, but it doesn’t give much pay in return.  
  
“Those kids don’t get much from the orphanage, much less from the factories that take them in and throw them out when they’re crippled,” Matthew explains. “And you can benefit from this.”  
  
“Oh?” This has gotten Chris interested as he crosses his arms and leans against a bookshelf. “And tell me how you think that I benefit out of this?”  
  
“Once the foreman is taken care of and I get rid of the Rogues’ influence in there,” Chris leers at that. Both men knew that the Rogues are the rival gang to Martin’s own, and they are notorious to boot. “You and your gang sweep in, take over the factory, and you expanded the power and influence of your gang. You help the area by allowing workers to keep their jobs or work with you instead.”  
  
“And you thought that this is a good idea?” Chris asks, bemused yet amiable to Matthew’s idea. “You think that I will treat the workers better than the Rogues did?”  
  
“I would have given it to someone else,” Matthew says tersely. “If it weren’t the fact that I know that you don’t want to put children into factories.”  
  
That hit the spot. It was the one thing that Chris and his gang is known for, to treat children kindly and never let them work on jobs unsuitable for them. “And what will you do once you’ve freed them? It’s not exactly easy for them out on the streets as urchins.”  
  
“I know that a business partner of mine, a certain Miss Claire that can handle the freed children,” Matthew says. “Get her as your business partner and give her part of the cut of any activities that require her ‘employees’. It’s on my recommendation.”  
  
“Going on the straight and narrow 'ere, Matty boy?” Chris smirks. “Never thought that day would ever come and happen.”  
  
“People change,” Matthew says, keeping his answer short and curt.  
  
“People change because of reasons. What's yours?” Chris prods on, unsatisfied until he gets the true answers that he seeks.  
  
“It's none of your business, Martin,” Matthew warns.  
  
“Got something to do with that tax collector? You know the one that I'm talking about,” Chris' grin got even wider when he got the reaction he wanted to see. He claps his hands and gives a loud bellowing laugh. “I knew the rumours running around were true!”  
  
Matthew turns around to face Chris, icy blue eyes boring holes onto the taller man. Chris puts his hands up.  
  
“Hey hey, calm down there, Matty. I just never thought that you worshipped in the church of men.”  
  
Matthew’s glare only intensified.  
  
“Where have you been hearing this?” he asks coldly.  
  
“There were rumours running about you,” Chris shrugs. “Few months with no signs of your activity has got people making up stories about you leaving London behind; that you retired, or worse, ran to Europe or the Americas to start over."  
  
“Those are just rumours, Martin. Don't let it get over your head there."  
  
"Yes, but rumours are and always have some grains of truth to it," Chris says in a low voice. "You need to sift through the sands and clean it up until you find them there and there for you to see. Whether or not that you cared, those rumours have damaged your reputability of being a master thief.”  
  
“I just need to earn money to get a new place to live again, Martin. And you tend to have a lot to offer,” Matthew finally explains. “These few months of inactivity have given me time to think over of what my priorities are. And the first thing that I need is to see if I still got it in me.”  
  
“Say no more, my friend. You’re welcome to be here and I will offer you the best in return for your service,” Chris proclaims, clapping his hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “With a business company that I got thanks for your help in gaining my lovely train, you don’t have to worry about anything. Give a word to my friends in Southwark or Whitechapel, and they’ll do the same.”  
  
“Thank you, Martin.”  
  
Without saying another word, Matthew jumps off the train, paying no heed to how dangerous it is to do that while the train is still moving. It doesn’t matter. He has work once again.  
  
\-----  
  
Dominic sighs in relief as the carriage comes to a stop, finally arriving home after another day's work out of the desk and into the fields. He is tired and wants to soak his feet with hot water and have some tea, but in his mind he is thinking about the telegraph letter that he’d received about his mother’s visit to his house tomorrow.  
  
Dominic loves his mother, but even then, there is so much a son can take in getting asked such questions as "Will you come to the manor to celebrate Christmas this year?" or "Your skills are better off than working as a tax collector, why don’t you consider a change in your career?", and his personal favourite that always appear in their meetups: "Have you found someone that you fancied to get engaged with?"  
  
In short, he is not looking forward to it.  
  
Hopefully, Matthew had read the note given to him from last night’s supper and can stay away from the house tomorrow while his mother is here to have tea and then supper with him.  
  
He opens the door to be greeted by Miss Huddleston, and he quickly picks up by the nervous look on her face that something is not right. He is just about to ask what is wrong when he hears laughter from the dining room. Not one, but _two_ different yet distinctive laughter.  
  
Both sound like giggling, but one has a higher pitch tone while the other has a more masculine one than the former.  
  
Dominic’s face turns white and he quickly goes to where the source of the laughter came from.  
  
His mother is here. Matthew is here too. It is then Dominic horrifically realises that he has made a grave error. She wasn’t coming tomorrow, she was actually coming _today_. And she is there in the drawing room, with _Matthew_ , having tea together.  
  
Dominic all but rushes towards where the two are, opening the door and expecting to see something even worse.  
  
Matthew looks every bit comfortable chatting with his mother, laughing with her about something that Dominic didn’t catch from their conversation. Both of them looked up at the door when he opens it far too fast.  
  
“Oh Dominic, you’re back! You’ve never introduced me to Mr Bellamy before!” she smiles, standing up to give her son a hug. She isn’t like the average Victorian woman her age to perform actions like hugging her adult son, but nobody has ever stopped her before because she can be intimidating in what she wants.  
  
“That’s because I didn’t see the intention to, mother. He’s all but a guest in my house,” Dominic answers, gritting his teeth and forcing up a smile.  
  
His mother dismisses that with a wave of her hand.  
  
“Nonsense! He has been a fine host to me so far during the afternoon while you were gone at work,” she laughs. “Now do sit down with us, Dominic. I think the tea is still warm.”  
  
He turns his eyes to look at Matthew as his mother pours up a cup for him. The smug bastard is taking the whole visit a lot better than he does as Matthew grins at him. Dominic is concerned of what the thief has been telling to his mother if she is already enamoured by him and speaking his name with delight.  
  
“Mr Bellamy has been telling me of his adventures in Malaya and Singapore as a trader. Sailing the seas and traversing through jungles. Such exotic places! Oh, what fortune that these two places are under the British Empire,” she giggles.  
  
“Really?” Dominic turns to look at Matthew with a stern face, who he is more than sure has never left Britain. If he did, he never would have given his mother such convincing tall tales or resist pilfering the coffers of any poor soul that encountered him across the other side of the continent.  
  
“That is one of the advantages of a trader for me,” Matthew declares, settling back to his seat. “You earn money and do lots of exercise. I am thankful that my friend Dominic here has been willing to let me stay with him. It was more preferable than staying in a flat and spending my time whiling away in the Oriental Club. They haven’t had the taste of Southeast Asia so there’s barely anything worth sharing my experiences with them.”  
  
Matthew winks at Dominic’s mother. “Except for you and Dominic, madam.”  
  
“Oh, Mr Bellamy, you are much too humble with such opinions,” she sighs. She then turns her attention to her son.  
  
“What a fine man that you have met here, Dominic,” she says with a sincere smile towards him. “With an opportunity like this, I would not want to or have to wait for you any longer to find someone to settle down with by your age. I certainly know you wouldn’t.”  
  
Dominic almost spat his tea out, staring at his mother in shock.  
  
He can't believe that his mother, his own mother, had given to her son her approval towards Matthew. Of all the people in the world, his mother likes and approves of a thief that has been lying to her with regaling stories that needs evidence to prove!  
  
Matthew takes the whole matter much better than he does. By laughing.  
  
“Aside from my occupation and the hazards that comes with my occupation, which fortunately I am planning to stay much longer in London after my time overseas, I wouldn’t be considered as bad material for a spouse,” Matthew giggles. “Well, except that I can’t cook. But I am sure that Miss Huddleston covers that up for me.”  
  
“Oh, you’re too modest, Mr Bellamy,” she chuckles.  
  
“But we can’t deny that it’s true, Madam,” Matthew quips.  
  
Dominic sinks back down on his armchair, sipping his tea and nibbles on a tea biscuit, deciding to let two chatter on while taking advantage of not being the centre of the attention to either his mother or Matthew. He can literally see them get on each other like a house on fire and that they have a lot to talk about.  
  
It is better off that way, since he has to spend the next few hours to not think about why his mother thinks he and Matthew are—are _compatible_. That is a shuddering thought.  
  
When it is late in the evening after supper, his mother is reluctant to leave, as it is usual of her visits to him. This time, however, her reluctance is due to Matthew than him, as she had fun spending time with the brunette and wanted to keep talking with him.  
  
Aside from the shock of what his mother said outright, it is actually one of the most enjoyable times that Dominic has had with his mother on this visit yet. She hasn’t said a word of anything that Dominic dreads to go through, and he smiled much more easily at her as her carriage leaves from the street of his house.


	6. Chapter 6

Dominic checks his book for the start of the day. There are several families that have missed out in paying their taxes in time, including several that requires him to go to the City of London. There are also one family that are in need to chat about if they need to increase the price in their taxes as they have opened up their walls for a couple of windows in their homes. Also, he has to go into the office to check in from time to time.  
  
He has hired a carriage for the whole day to specifically bring him around the addresses on his list and periodically go to the office. The cab driver, John, is a familiar face and is more than happy to do this for Dominic.  
  
Just as he is about to close the door and sit down, someone manages to catch it and open it back out. Dominic turns around and frowns when he sees that it was Matthew. Out of sheer audacity or just that Matthew wants to annoy him, he sits down right next to the blond.  
  
“Apologies and good morning, Dominic,” Matthew greets the tax collector with a toothy smile. “I didn’t feel like wanting to find a pub corner and wait to get on an omnibus today. You have called a carriage, so why don’t we can share the cab?”  
  
“Because I have work to do that requires me to use this carriage for the whole day,” Dominic deadpans.  
  
“Come on, it’s only to bring me to Victoria Station. No more. Do this as a favour for me,” Matthew says, giving Dominic a pleading gesture. “Considering that I didn’t ruined anything when your mother came to visit weeks ago, you should be thankful of me instead of being annoyed.”  
  
Dominic rolls his eyes, but he signals for John to go.  
  
“Fine, just this once,” Dominic sighs, turning to Matthew. “But you have to pay for the driver for this unscheduled stop.”  
  
“Fine by me.”  
  
“And…” Dominic hesitates, but forces it out of his lips. “I thank you for making my mother’s visit pleasant for both her and for me. I usually don’t have much interesting things to say to her.”  
  
“You’re welcome, Dominic!” Matthew responds back cheerfully.  
  
After telling the driver where to go to first, the brunette hums a tune as John drives the carriage towards Victoria Station.  
  
“What have you been doing lately, Mr Bellamy? Have you got something to do that requires you to leave London?” Dominic asks, if only to get Matthew to stop humming.  
  
“Oh, no. I’m just picking up something that is going to arrive there,” Matthew answers. “It’s part of my job. Some work given to me here and there. Nothing that causes too much of a problem for the city or for you.”  
  
“Really? And what are you working as if not still as a thief?” Dominic raises an eyebrow, rightfully suspicious of the thief’s claim.  
  
“I’m working on a job that requires my skillsets to get things done. That’s all you need to know,” Matthew says with a tone of finality.  
  
Dominic makes a noise. “Hmm, that’s good then. Better than moping in my house.”  
  
If anything, the tax collector prefers not to know whatever it is that Matthew is doing as long as it doesn’t come to taking a person’s life. Or interfere with his work.  
  
Matthew smiles at that, and says nothing more as the carriage is getting nearer towards the train station.  
  
\-----  
  
Matthew got into Victoria Station and hops out of Chris’ train at St Pancras Station with a bag of money at hand after handing a cylindrical container that contains a painting from some Dutch artist that he found in someone’s private collection. The painting wasn’t impressive in Matthew’s opinion, since it’s just has a windmill painted in sombre colours. He prefers brighter coloured paintings.  
  
But a Dutch dealer has called for Martin’s assistance to bring it back to the Netherlands and is paying them handsomely, so who is Matthew to judge on what someone else sees as valuable?  
  
Stealing a painting is an easy job with his skills and a scalpel, provided that the one who requested for it didn’t want the frame the painting is on to be included. Those can be easily bought and replaced. Paintings? They don’t come in easily unless you give it to a very skilled art forger. That, Matthew is not.  
  
Navigating through the crowd with ease like a cat, he came to spot a gentleman standing by the platform, and something in Matthew senses that the man is loaded.  
  
He grins, deciding to do an old pickpocketing trick of his. He may have claimed to not be a pickpocket to Dominic before, but the best thief must master in ways to have what items that belong to him will end up in his hands. Walking by the middle aged man, he ‘accidentally’ knocks the gentleman’s cane over with his foot.  
  
“Oh, sorry sir, I didn’t mean to do that,” Matthew apologises, picking the cane up and handing it over to the gentleman.  
  
“It’s alright, it was an accident,” the gentleman replies good naturedly, receiving his walking cane in return.  
  
“Have a safe trip, sir,” Matthew says, briskly walking away. The gentleman never noticed the thief’s clasped hand. Once Matthew is at a secluded part of the train station, he opens his hand to take a look at the jewellery he took out of the man’s pocket. It is a ruby brooch, beautifully cut and bound in gold.  
  
Funny, the brooch looks more fitting on a woman than to be in a man’s pocket. It was probably bought as a gift to a fiancée, wife, mistress etc. But what does it matter? The gem is genuine, and a brooch of its size and worth can be pawned off for a very decent amount of money.  
  
Matthew walks out of the train station until he’s at the courtyard that is nearby. In there, he can see a number of well-off men and women there, enjoying a day out under the sunny weather. The thief can feel his fingers twitch and his eyes already spotting some shiny items. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to mill about in the crowd…  
  
Matthew later walks out of the courtyard with his pockets and satchel heavier than before.  
  
He can feel something akin to glee bubbling inside of him, and a smile that is hard to wipe off his face. Oh, it feels _great_ to see that he can still be the best!  
  
\-----  
  
Dominic has been stressed from work lately, and Matthew has smartly kept out of sight to allow Dominic to wind down when at home. So when Miss Huddleston informed Matthew that Dominic has called him to the drawing room hours after supper, the thief is surprised that Dominic has even considered to have his maid find him and join him as company.  
  
He is even more surprised when he enters the drawing room only to see Dominic drunk. This is the first time that he sees him like this, holding a crystal bottle in his hand with the amber liquid poured out onto a glass.  
  
Once Matthew sits down on the armchair that Dominic seems to have noticed his presence.  
  
“Evening, Matthew,” Dominic greets him, his body swaying a bit when he sits up. “Fancy some Scotch whisky?”  
  
Matthew raises his hand to refuse it. “I am not really fond of--”  
  
“Good. The Scots know how to do whisky,” Dominic replies, pouring him a glass anyways. Matthew takes the glass, unable to pour it back into the bottle since the liquor is now diluted by the ice in the glass.  
  
There isn’t much of a conversation to start with as Dominic is busy with his drink.  
  
“You know, Matthew,” Dominic suddenly says, spinning the glass of whisky and ice on his left hand. “You’re not as bad as I thought you would be after months of staying at my house. Commissioner Wolstenholme is right to have told me so.”  
  
“Um, thank you,” Matthew stares at the blond, unsure of how to respond. Just how much did he drank before he summoned him here?  
  
“I remember when you made me upset when you called me a Viscount,” Dominic giggles. “I was probably overreacting.”  
  
Matthew says nothing, the situation being something so completely different that he isn’t sure how to react to this. Dominic is drunk and giggling. Never before had Matthew ever wished so badly for the Dominic that is irritated and exasperated at him.  
  
“Do you want to know why I didn’t like being called that title?” Dominic asks.  
  
“No, not really,” Matthew answers. It was immediately obvious that the blond ignored that answer and starts telling Matthew anyways.  
  
“Well here’s the story. I was born into a family that bears tradition over our shoulders. I am the third son, with two brothers before me and a little sister from behind. As soon as you are born, you are a fighter, a knight, and loyal to the country and people that you must serve. It is a responsibility that cannot be easily shed away."  
  
“That is something I wouldn't have known how to bear with as an outsider,” Matthew admits, watching with a sense of worry at how Dominic just downs the glass and pours another. At the same time, however, he’s getting first-hand knowledge to Dominic’s life, one that the archives wouldn’t have covered.  
  
“As the sons and daughters of the Howard family line, to fight for Queen and country, and for the people, was something that we have to do. We are knights, first and foremost. I never questioned it because it was a path that each generation must go through, to pass down the tradition.”  
  
“But then something happened, something tragic, that it changed your mind,” Matthew assumes. He got it right when he notices Dominic's body tensing up before he even nods his head. Dominic takes another shot down before he speaks.  
  
“When I heard that Spencer, my brother, died in Rajasthan, suddenly something in me broke down. I didn’t want to join the army, I didn’t want to die at some remote region of the world because I was told to do so before I return and be considered as part of the nobility,” Dominic says quietly, a wry grin appearing for a few seconds before it’s gone. “I wanted to stay in England, where it would be a lot safer. I’d rather work in a desk job than to be sent off.”  
  
“And what a job that turned out,” Matthew comments. To his surprise, Dominic cracks a smile.  
  
“Yeah. A suggestion for a desk job got me kicked out of home and ended up in London. All thanks to my father who doesn't agree with it,” Dominic sighs in a morose way at the mention of his father. “To him, I was a coward, a shame to the Howard line. I was lucky that his acquaintances did not think the same and offered me employment when I arrived in London. Not like it matters when my oldest, dearest brother is the heir anyways.”  
  
“I am sorry to hear that happened to you,” Matthew murmurs. “Your father is an arse, though.”  
  
Matthew isn’t sure whether the last line that he said would’ve been good to say to someone of nobility, but then he hears a chuckle from Dominic, and all is well.  
  
“He is. He almost cut me out of the family name had my mother and brother not intervened. I didn’t know that tax collectors had to chase after or fight against people who become pissed off over handing their money to me. My job was to collect taxes, not take their money and spend it frivolously,” Dominic shrugs, a grin quirking up his lips. “But I guess that I turned a desk job into something of a spectacle and something even more dreaded.”  
  
Then Dominic sobers up, gripping the glass in his hands tightly.  
  
“I never wanted to have the title of Viscount given to me like that. I never sought to gain such a title in the first place. To me, the Viscount of Stockport has always been Spencer,” Dominic’s smile turns to look sad. “Not me.”  
  
“I’m sorry to hear what happened to your brother Spencer. The two of you must’ve been very close,” Matthew says. Looking at Dominic, a part of himself regrets that he teased the blond that time, unaware of the significance of the Viscount title to Dominic.  
  
“A toast, to my brother Spencer,” Dominic says, raising his glass.  
  
“To Spencer,” Matthew says, doing the same.  
  
“And a toast, for Queen and motherfucking country,” Dominic slurs before he downs the whole thing.  
  
“For Queen and country,” Matthew says in a much lower voice and in a politer version, drinking his whisky much more slowly.  
  
Compared to Dominic, Matthew only had two glasses of Scotch, yet that is more than enough for him. He isn’t much of a drinker.  
  
“Well. I should go and rest now. It’s been a long day for me,” Matthew says, standing up and putting the empty glass next to the crystal bottle.  
  
“Matthew,” Dominic calls his name out as Matthew is about to leave the room.  
  
“Yes, Domini--” Matthew turns around, then blinks when a pair of lips are latched onto his.  
  
Although both men have drank from the same bottle, the taste and smell of the Scotch whisky is even stronger on Dominic’s lips and tongue.  
  
“What was that?” Matthew asks when they broke the kiss, shock evident on his face.  
  
“That’s a goodnight kiss,” Dominic grins. “Goodnight, Matthew.”  
  
Matthew had a hard time sleeping that night, unable to forget the kiss and how Dominic’s lips moulded against his despite it being a sloppy ‘goodnight kiss’ for the brunette.  
  
\-----  
  
When he sees Dominic the next morning for breakfast, the tax collector has a hangover and can’t seem to recall whatever happened last night. The last that he remembers is calling for Miss Huddleston and telling her to get Matthew over to the drawing room for a companion.  
  
To Dominic’s luck, it’s Sunday today so he doesn’t have to go to work and be able to nurse his hangover.  
  
Matthew isn’t disappointed by it. In fact, it’s better off that Dominic can’t remember it at all. The less is said of it, the better for the both of them.


End file.
